


Every Gold Thing

by Dancains



Category: The Terror (TV 2018)
Genre: Baby's first Kink Meme Fill, But we're playing fast and loose with history here and that's okay, M/M, Nipple Piercings, Possibly some historical accuracy, Reunion Sex, Surprise Piercings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-23
Updated: 2019-04-23
Packaged: 2020-01-24 07:17:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18566557
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dancains/pseuds/Dancains
Summary: "I would be an old fool to spurn this chance fate has gifted us, bringing us together again.Absence makes the heart grow fonder--and if you will have my company once more, I am entirely yours."Henry smiled, and John imagined the secrets of all the world hidden in that jaunty line of white teeth. "Come to bed, then, John," he said simply.





	Every Gold Thing

**Author's Note:**

> My first KM fill, written for [this prompt.](https://terrorkinkmeme.dreamwidth.org/396.html?thread=143244#cmt143244) I saw it and immediately thought of Peglar :')

_Love is the only gold._ \- Alfred Tennyson

To slide open his cabin door and find Henry Peglar nestled there upon his berth, with bed linens drawn up nearly to his chin and an English copy of _Les Liaisons Dangereuses_ held neatly in his grasp, was something akin to stumbling into a fantastical dream.

"John, dear thing," said Henry, as untroubled as ever, "You've been holding out on me." Here he waved the book slightly. "Quite salacious stuff."

John gaped, before finally pulling himself together--and over the cabin's threshold--glancing about the darkened corridor as he silently shut the door behind him. This was the first instance that John had seen Henry since the bulk of _Terror_ crewman had opted to berth on _Erebus_. A short taper candle was lit on the desk beside the bed, its flame muted and half-hidden behind a stack of leather-bound volumes.

"Henry," said John, low and indignant, "What if someone else had found you?"

It was late in the evening, and the steward had finally completed all of his tasks for the ship's officers. A cold, tender soreness weighed upon his limbs. Until that moment, he had only been thinking of the sweet embrace of Morpheus, happy for it to serve as the day's reward. But, by the freckled bareness of his arms and shoulders, the captain of the foretop that now resided in his bed was looking to reward him with a very different embrace.

"No one else has--" Henry's smile faltered slightly. He closed the book. "I hope I was not mistaken in thinking that you also wanted to rekindle our former...association."

It wasn't quite the right word for it, both of them knew that. Was there a single word in any great book or manuscript that encompassed what Henry Peglar meant to John Bridgens?

"My dear boy," John whispered, crossing the small space. He let his thumb trace the line of Henry's bearded jaw, Henry leaning into the touch like a flower's open face to the sun. "I would be an old fool to spurn this chance fate has gifted us, bringing us together again. _Absence makes the heart grow fonder_ \--and if you will have my company once more, I am entirely yours."

Henry smiled, and John imagined the secrets of all the world hidden in that jaunty line of white teeth. "Come to bed, then, John," he said simply.

John nodded, reluctantly pulling away to strip his uniform. He felt Henry's heavy, hungry gaze upon him, as he shed jacket and waistcoat, tugging his cravat loose from around his neck and putting it aside before pulling his thick, wool jumper up over his head, knowing he wouldn't need the comfort of its added heat. Henry had now set aside _Les Liaisons_ entirely.

The steward knew he had grown even grayer since he had last lain with Henry, and perhaps softer about the middle, but his lover still watched him with heavy-lidded infatuation, as he rid himself of his boots, trousers, and small clothes. 

Henry had changed so little, besides the thick, new growth of his beard and the deeper lines under his eyes and around his smiling mouth. Oh, how John has longed to feel the familiar slightness of his waist, the workman's callouses across his skillful hands.

"Here, make room," John whispered, lifting the corner of the bed linens. Henry moved onto his side, so his back was to the wall and they could lay face to face. Snugly situated together on the bunk, John was about to turn and douse the candle, when he noticed something glinting in the dim light.

"Henry, what on earth-"

His lover dragged the sheets even further down himself, so John could better see the two small, gold rings that pierced the the buds of his nipples, not dissimilar to the pair that already adorned his ears.

Henry grinned, mischievous and tantalizing as ever. "I had them done by a jeweler in London, and for a pretty penny, too. They're quite the fashion in some circles in England, and in Paris, from what I gather. More often with women, you can imagine...what had he he said the french call them... _anneaux de sein,_ I think. Thought you'd be impressed that I remembered that."

Usually the supplier of words, John was struck silent. He ran his tongue across the line of his dry lips.

"John? Surely you can't be scandalized, with everything you've seen in the time of your service. Not to mention, the decorations on your own person." He caressed John's forearm, knowing even through the linen shirt exactly where his favorite tattoo resided.

"I wouldn't say _scandalized,_ merely, taken for a surprise. Did it hurt?"

Henry scoffed, no stranger to pain, nor to John's tender worry. "Not much more than having your ears done. They're entirely healed by now, of course."

"I do remember how sensitive you are, to being touched there..." He brought a hand between their chests, tentatively, not quite brushing flesh or metal. "May I.."

Henry practically groaned. "God, John. I've been _dying_ for you to."

Spurned forward not just by Henry's encouragement, but by the swell of a half-hard prick nestled high against his thigh, John bowed his head forward, instead, and laved the flat of his tongue over one gold bedecked nipple, flicking the ring upwards in the process. 

Henry's body quivered, held in place only by John's grasp on his bicep, a half-choking noise escaping Henry's lips before being smothered by his own hand. John gently lapped and teased at the nipple for a long, luxurious stretch of time, before bringing his attention to its twin. 

The gold rings felt strange at first, but the metal soon warmed greatly under his ministrations, all the while Henry, his small clothes now pushed down and out of the way, tangled their legs together and rutted with abandon into the tight press of John's thighs. He was relieved too, to find himself at a cock-stand, firm and leaking against the hard muscle of Henry's belly.

Soon, one of Henry's hands was buried in the back of his long-grown hair, guiding him upwards so he might keep Henry silent with the press of his own lips. How good it felt, how natural, to kiss him, as if it had not been years but mere hours since they had shared this intimacy.

He continued massaging at the two pert, pink buds on Henry's chest with the pads of his thumb and fingers, experimentally tugging on the rings from time to time, whilst Henry briefly broke their kiss to lick the flat of his hand, and then brought it down between them to properly frig both of their pricks against one another. The other moved from the back of John's head to the thick hatch of silver at his sternum possessively carding through the hair.

Oh, how his heart sung to hold Henry like this again, to be _touched_ by him like this.

Soon John was on his back, Henry moving atop him, taking charge as he was often wont to do. Through their familiarity and the strength of their mutual desire for this re-conjoining, it did not take long for them to help each other reach their pinnacles, Henry's mouth smothered against John's neck and John's in Henry's silk-soft hair.

As they laid together afterwards, curled like two polished spoons in a drawer, John knew that Henry would have to redress and carefully creep out of his cabin in the blackness of early morning, and that he would receive little of the sleep he had so desired. He was overjoyed all the same.

"John," Henry whispered, earning a curious hum in response.

"It's funny, laying here in wait for you...I almost felt like some woman from one of your ancient books, or from biblical times even. A bride, or bridegroom I suppose, all bedecked in a sort of glittering, gold dowry." He laughed, sleepy and sentimental.

John gently toyed with one one Henry's earrings, his nose and cheek pressed to the crown of Henry's head. "A dowry..." Henry had such a unique, beautiful way with words, when given the opportunity to utilize them. "Henry, if this was a wedding night, than I think we shall have a very happy union from here on."

He didn't need to see Henry's face to know the man was grinning.

"Goodnight, John."

**Author's Note:**

> I did try to pull some minor details out of the article linked along with the prompt, and I threw in the earrings too for fun, even though I'm pretty sure the practice of sailors having pierced ears might have died out or become less popular at this time (if anyone knows much about this please let me know) and that Henry probably wouldn't wear them in the Arctic anyway for obvious reasons (maybe he held on to them and put them back in for this special occasion?). As someone else on the kink meme commented, these would certainly be magnets for the cold/possibly uncomfortable, in that environment but I didn't really manage to work that into this piece. 
> 
> Also, headcanon: John had (1) ear pierced at some point, probably his right, but he removed it for sake of professionalism/earrings on sailors going out of custom, etc. and it possibly closed up.


End file.
